Tough Part I: Alaska tough

December 30, 2013

Recently I had an interesting conversation about what it means to be 'tough'. My friend used 'tough' in passing to describe someone who is physically strong, a valid use of the word I believe. I said that to me it means being able to endure hard things. I think the hardest things seem to have little to do with physical strength.

He asked "Do you think it's important to be your kind of tough?"

YES. When I searched for the value of being tough in my mind I found it high on the loftiest pedestal with other virtues I especially revere like honesty, intelligence, purity, and humility. I think being tough belongs in their realm.

"Do you think you're tough?"

I think he saw me stifle an involuntary smile, as I was trying to cling to the shreds of humility I possess...because he smiled too and said, "Oh yeah you do!"

This got me thinking...

Yep. I think I am darn. tough. Or I can be. It's one of the things that makes me me. I use it to define myself, though not normally to describe myself. It's one of the reasons I'm so grateful to have grown up in a place that puts you in situations...or maybe invites you to put yourself in situations that are impossibly unfortunate. When you survive them you find out you're tough. And you know you could do something equally as hard again, maybe harder.

We were river kayaking a glacial stream in the rain. I was a bit less experienced than the rest of the group and had fallen a little behind. I was already feeling overwhelmed by the tumbling water so when I ended up upside down I was not mentally ready to roll back up, though I knew how. I popped my skirt (unhooked the neoprene cover for the part where you sit) and swam. I climbed onto the bank, caught my breath, got back in the boat and continued downstream to catch up with my friends.

As I told a friend this story I realized I was making it sound like some fun whimsical Alaskan adventure...so for one of the first times I added some details that make the story more than a one-up adventure story (which I try not to do but it can be so tempting).

When I got myself to the bank of the river, I was alone, freezing, wet, and very scared. My options were limited to...the one thing I did not want to do, get back in my boat and continue being tossed down the freezing river alone. Not only did I not want to do it, I was emotionally near hysteria because I was so scared. I think I didn't scream because no one would hear me, which was even more terrifying.

I hated that moment. I wished anything else in the world were happening to me. I felt scared and helpless to a degree only Alaska has made me feel. I remember the dead-set determination I felt as the realization set in that the thing I was the most scared of and unprepared to do was the only way out of that situation.

I was scared the whole time. My freezing shaking hands stretched my skirt around the lip of the boat.
No one was watching to call me brave. I wasn't able to see my friends, I wasn't certain which channels I should take. But I did it, I made it to the end, and then it was over.

I don't know whether those kinds of experiences made me tough or showed me how tough I already was. Either way times like that changed me.

I am drawn to toughness in other people. It makes me trust them. It makes me want to know what has led them possess this characteristic that is so important to me...and surprisingly kind of hard to come by.